Drawing Regret
by Fly Raven. Fly
Summary: AU. In the woods, a shadowed figure swung slowly, rotating and swaying, hanging from chains and a branch that never broke. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters do not belong to me, nor does Sons of Anarchy. The title is taken from the song "Strange Fruit".**

**This is a spin off from one of my drabbles in my other story, "The Ties That Bind, encouraged to be written by xLila Rose. It's going to be multi-chaptered, but a fairly short one, nearing about five or six chapters. **

**This first chapter is directly from chapter six of The Ties That Bind, so for those of you that have been keeping up with that, then you've probably already read this. If you haven't read it yet, think of this as a prologue of sorts.**

He didn't tell him anything.

At least Juice could feel proud about that. Though it meant nothing. The damage had been done, but as it stood; he didn't say anything else.

He told Roosevelt he wouldn't be giving him the brick, he wouldn't be giving him anything.

"Just do what the fuck you want," Juice had said tiredly after being pulled in to his office once again. "I don't care. Throw me in jail. Mark me as a rat. Tell the club. I don't care. I'm done."

The other man had leaned forward, intense and incredulous. "You go to jail and you'll be dead or worse in the first hour after being marked as a rat. The Sons will kill you."

"I don't care," Juice had said with emphasis, finally lifting his eyes to stare at Roosevelt. "Do what the fuck you want."

"What are you doing, Juice?" the man had asked quietly, changing tactics smoothly.

Juice was too tired to play games. He closed his eyes. "They're my family." He opened his eyes again, exhausted and guilt ridden. Done. "_They're _my family. Not some ghosts you decided to pull up from my past. Those people don't matter. The Sons of Anarchy are everything to me. I won't do it. They don't deserve it. I won't let you use me." He looked away, not even curious to see Roosevelt's expression.

"And what do you think? You tell them you didn't rat anymore, and they'll accept you back, patch and all without any consequences?"

Juice gave a wry smile. "No," he had said softly, not really looking at anything. "I know they won't. They're my family. I know them. So, no. No. They won't."

"And you're okay with that." It wasn't a question.

Juice had stood then, smiling down at the other man sitting on the desk. "Either way I betrayed them. I'm going to die either way. At least now I won't be bringing them down for my own sake."

With that, he had walked out with the intent of never being in that station again.

Now, Juice was making his way through the woods in the darkness, dragging the heavy chains behind him. If he were a philosophical kind of guy, he'd wax poetic about how the chains were just the physical being of the metaphorical chains that had been wrapped around him since returning to Charming.

But he wasn't particularly philosophical, so he hauled the heavy chains through the dirt with guilt clawing at his throat, leaving a greasy trail behind in his rolling stomach.

He arrived at the tree he had spent so much time around lately, sitting up on the branches for hours, thinking instead of sleeping, feeling heavier than the chains Juice now held in his hands.

He held the end of one of the chains in his hand, climbing on the first branch and pulling the rest with him. Juice paused, looking consideringly at the branch he usually sat on. Frowning, he reached a hand up to shake the branch, and saw the bark at the trunk start to crack as the branch swayed. Juice climbed higher to the thicker, sturdier branch, bypassing his usual branch for this.

He didn't want the branch to break, after all.

The other branch was thicker, and held Juice and the links of chains comfortably. Juice looped an end of the chains around the branch, pulling it tightly.

He sat there for a while. Thinking. He thought of his brothers. Not second guessing, no, but of what he had done to them after all they had done _for _him. He thought of Miles. When did he not think of Miles? No amount of Contrition prayers would forgive Juice. He thought of Jax, of Clay and the man of mayhem patch he didn't deserve. Bobby. Opie. Piney. Tig. Happy. Chibs.

Chibs. Chibs was on the forefront of his mind as much as Miles. Juice pushed it away like the traitorous coward he was. He shook his head, a sneer on his lips, twisting them as the removed his kutte, laying it on the branch next to him. He laid his hand on the reaper and shut his eyes, shaking his head, overwhelmed and sorry. He was always so fucking sorry.

"I'm sorry," Juice whispered. For the club, for Miles. He shoved it aside, and cleared his expression, even as the bile and disgust for himself rolled in his stomach and climbed his throat.

He lifted the other end of the chains, wrapping them around his throat. The icy metal dug into his skin painfully, and Juice sighed in relief, by some twisted happenings, knowing he was getting everything he deserved, and not at all.

He checked to see if the chains were secured. They were. He didn't want anything going wrong.

He contemplated actually jumping from the branch, but he didn't know what that would do to the wood, if it would hold. Besides, Juice thought, twisting his lips, that was an easy way out. Jump, and one broken neck and you're gone forever just like that. In Juice's eyes, he deserved to suffer.

So he slid forward on the branch easily, and off. He was falling, and then jerking suddenly, pulled back by the hard chains crushing his wind pipe. His body reacted of course, on pure instinct, struggling for air, his hands clawing at the chains and nails digging in his skin. He fought to breathe with everything he had, even as every fiber told himself he had to die.

He struggled for how long he didn't know, until his vision blurred at the edges, and the suffocating burning in his chest eased somewhat. He arms fell uselessly by his sides, and his last thought was of his family.

*.*

"Maybe I should go see where the lad is," Chibs said for the millionth time, standing from the bar stool, only to be pushed down once again by Tig and Bobby.

"Leave him alone, Chibs," Bobby said, taking a pull of his beer, hunched over the bar with his hand still on Chibs' shoulder.

"I'm tellin' ya, something don't feel right here. He shouldn't be alone." Chibs argued, pushing against their arms.

"You don't even know where he is," Tig replied easily.

Chibs ran his hands through his dark hair in frustration. "That is why," he said through his teeth, "I said I should go _look _for him."

Bobby shook his head at Tig, as if giving Chibs up for a lost cause. Tig heaved a sigh and with finality, handcuffed Chibs to the bar.

"What the bloody fuck do yeh think ye're doin'?" Chibs asked indignantly, his brogue thickening as he struggled against the restraints.

Bobby slid a beer towards the Scotsman. "Trying to make you relax."

"For once, stop thinking about your boy. He's probably fine. Get drunk," Tig said, leaning against the bar without remorse. "Find a pussy. Or a mouth. Or whatever orifice you prefer. But ease back already. He can take care of himself."

Chibs' shoulders hunched, pushing his beer away. "Somethin' just don' feel right."

Tig gestured over a woman who wore little and showed much, shoving her towards Chibs. "Make him forget how to think, will you?"

"Christ," Chibs turned away in disgust, glaring at Tig even as he said through gritted teeth. "Not interested. Find someone else."

The woman shrugged, flouncing off to go sit on Happy's lap. Tig looked closely at Chibs. "you're that worried?"

"Finally, the fucker gets it," Chibs exclaimed. "Now will you get these bastardly cuffs off of me?"

"No," Tig said, shaking his head. He continued on, ignoring Chibs' yell. "No. You don't have to get drunk, you don't have to fuck someone, but you aren't going to go out god knows where looking for him. The guy probably wants to be alone, otherwise he would be here. Leave it until morning. Then you can search the entirety of fucking Charming."

Tig walked off before Chibs could reply, and he laid his head on the bar. "I don't like this." He said to Bobby.

Bobby gave him a considering look. He leaned forward, murmuring. "Tell you what," he said. "You go take two hours down, sleep if you want, clear your head, and if you're still that worried, I'll go with you to find him."

Chibs turned his head, eyes narrowed. "This isn't some underhanded trick to get me to leave Juice alone, is it?"

Bobby shook his head. "The guy's been off lately. No one else has noticed, I don't think, but he may just need to be alone to deal with what he needs to deal with. I'll keep my word. Two hours down, and we'll go look for him."

"An hour."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "And hour and a half, otherwise I'm not taking those cuffs off."

Chibs huffed out a breath. "Fine." Bobby leaned over, pulling an extra key from his pocket and taking the restraints off of him. Chibs sighed, standing and rubbing his wrists. "I'm going to sleep, and I'm setting an alarm. Even if you don't keep your word, I'm going."

Bobby nodded, "Fair enough." He watched the other man walk off; waving away a girl and a beer as he started down the hallway. Bobby shook his head, and took another pull of his drink. "Juice, you had better be okay," he whispered, feeling uncertainty coil in his stomach.

In the woods, a shadowed figure swung slowly, rotating and swaying, hanging from chains and a branch that never broke.

**This story **_**will **_**be AU. Completely different after Fruit for the Crows. **

**But otherwise; reviews are much appreciated and loved. If you care to leave one, it would probably make my day completely.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Sons of Anarchy. **

**Second chapter, here. It's looking like after this chapter I'm going to be updating every three or four days. For purely my own selfish purposes and reasoning's, I've adjusted our dear Juice's age a tad; he's a bit closer to Chibs' age now. It's not specified how old he is in the show, just that he's near Jax's age (thirty two) and that Chibs is around forty-six/forty-seven. I've edited it so he's about thirty six-ish. **

_When Chibs had met the kid—who let's face it, could be classified as nothing less at the time, because really? He had childish exuberance and slight gullibility screaming just from one glance—he had been just thirty years old, and a few years in with the Sons of Anarchy in California. He'd made his place there, secured their trust and became a brother as much as the others became his._

_The embarrassment and the ache from Ireland—from Jimmy and Fiona—had ceased to but a murmur and he had pushed his need for not only retribution, but Jimmy's blood on his hands aside. He had returned to the man he knew before even Fiona and Jimmy had entered the picture, and if he were to actually question it, he'd say he were happier because of it._

_Jimmy had betrayed him. Fiona had turned her back and taken their child. They were nothing to him anymore, and he knew that if both Jimmy and Fiona had their way, then he'd be the exact same to Kerrianne. Which didn't bother him nearly as much as he knew it should have. But he didn't even know the girl he'd fathered, and he'd been gone for most of the pregnancy most to Jimmy._

_So needless to say, he had come stateside with no family and no friendship. And here he was now, with friendship deeper than any familial bonds. They were his brothers, and not only did he trust them with his life, he knew they trusted him with theirs._

_Which was why he was a bit apprehensive when this kid with the Mohawk came bounding—literally bounding, for fuck's sake—in to the clubhouse. He couldn't've been more than twenty-two, barely seven years older than Jackie and looking for his kutte. _

_Maybe Chibs should've treated him a bit better than he had at first. Maybe he should've tried to get the kid to trust him a bit more. Even after he had received his kutte a year after bouncing his way into the brotherhood, Chibs knew he should treat him better. He'd gotten through his year, and already proved to be invaluable with the electronic aspects of their business and stepped up when they needed him to. He had his kutte, and now he was a brother. But something about the kid just rubbed Chibs the wrong way, and he could never stand to be around him for more than necessary—though he'd never show or admit to it._

_He knew Tig and Bobby saw what was up though. He'd become closest to them in his time as part of the Sons. He knew that they noticed his wariness and hesitance around Juice and the way he didn't fully trust him like he had all of the others. He knew that they were a bit confused, but since it wasn't hurting anything, they didn't say anything. Chibs didn't protest Juice being one of them, after all. He just didn't trust him completely. _

_They'd had a bad run. They had a warehouse full of weapons that wouldn't be sold thanks to the fuckers that skipped the state. On top of it, Tig had found evidence of crank being run through Charming, and Clay was out for blood. On a whim, he had ordered all of them to carry the weapons they were supposed to've sold, hoping to scare the idiots in their town out of there. Bobby had gotten word of their base, and Clay had wanted some evidence._

_Chibs had never questioned why Clay had ordered Chibs and Juice to do the spying. He'd never asked, he'd just done as he was told even as he gritted his teeth as the kid—because he refused to call the guy a fucking man—walked beside him as they carried the guns that weren't theirs to check out potential crack house. _

_He didn't question Clay's decision. But he sure as hell wouldn't have chosen Juice to guard his back. He would've rather chosen that slime ball Kyle._

_It went bad. Someone had ratted that they'd seen them, and Juice and Chibs had entered the previously thought empty building only to realize that it really was empty. Barren, actually. And not only that, but the smell of smoke was noticeable real quick as the guys outside drove away with their load and left them locked inside the burning building. _

_And by locked, Chibs had meant locked. Doors wouldn't open and there were no windows in the place. The room filled with smoke and clogged their lungs even as the supporting beams overhead creaked as flames spilled through the opposite room._

_Chibs could safely say he was fucking scared. He was locked in a goddamn burning building, unable to breathe and almost positive that he was going to burn to death. He didn't even give a spare thought to Juice at first. He was more focused on his own clouded lungs and watering eyes and the heat he could feel through the wood as he fought the urge to pass out. Then he'd definitely be a dead man. But the urge was overwhelming, and despite all of his struggles to rise off of his knees—and when had he fallen to those?- and try one last time, the edges of his vision greyed. _

_He came back to coughing and chocking, the pain in his chest and behind his eyes indescribable. His ears were buzzing loudly and he couldn't hear a damn thing. But he noticed that after he coughed up all the thick, black smoke and phlegm, that he could breathe easily, and that the ground he was facing wasn't the concrete from inside, but dirt. _

_The buzzing became louder, and he noticed it wasn't a buzzing at all, but Juice's rough and raspy voice saying his name over and over again as he rubbed Chibs' back. Chibs lifted his head as far as he could—which, granted, wasn't far because shit his head hurt—and saw that Juice too was on his knees, his face usually carefree and laughing more concerned than Chibs had ever seen._

"_Chibs?" He saw more than actually heard the word as Juice mouthed it. "Can you hear me?"_

_Chibs nodded even though, no, no he couldn't really hear, but whatever. Chibs was pulled up until he was kneeling on the ground, and his head spun a little as he thought he was going to fall over, but Juice's surprisingly strong arms held him up. Chibs shook his head, which he realized a moment later was a huge bloody mistake when it felt like it was going to fall off. As Chibs tried to gather his bearings, he was led into a sitting position, sitting next to Juice who still had an arm wrapped around him to hold him up. Chibs blinked as his eyes were blinded, and a moment later Chibs realized it was the burning building he was staring at._

_Later, Chibs learned that Juice was able to keep his bearings a bit more than Chibs. The fire had started in the other room, moving into the only other room and the one that Chibs and Juice were located in. The emergency fire escape had been one that was located on the roof and moved down the side of the building. The ladder had been removed before Chibs or Juice had entered, which wouldn't have been a huge problem normally to get in to, but with the added bonus of smoke inhalation made it difficult to achieve. _

_Even so, Juice had used their weapons to shoot open the latch as their only door was burning. He had used the butt to jam it open so it wouldn't closed and had picked Chibs up—a man who maybe wasn't bigger, but was certainly heavier—and shoved him through and on to the escape. Still choking from his own inhalation from the thick smoke, Juice had pulled himself up, and pulled Chibs and himself out of the building and on to the lawn to wait for the others. _

_Chibs had been more embarrassed by his pretty fucking obvious underestimation of the other man than by the fact that Juice had pretty much saved his life. He had felt awkward around him for a short time afterward, ashamed by his own actions to the other until Juice had come up to him one day. _

"_Hey, man, look," he had said, looking nervous but determined. "I know you don't like me, and I don't know why. I'm not asking you to like me. Shit, you can hate my guts if you wanna. But we're brothers; I don't care how you feel, I've got your back. I knew you didn't like me but I had to help you. So, I don't know. You don't have to like me, but I hope you can trust me."_

_Chibs had felt his stomach tighten in guilt, realizing that maybe someone else _had _noticed, and shook his head, clapping his hand to the other man's shoulder. "I trust yeh," was all he said, and Juice must've noticed something of what he was feeling and wasn't saying, because all he did was nod and give him a small smile. _

_He had turned to walk away and Chibs had said a quiet, "Thank you," and Juice had paused without turning around._

"_That's what family's for."_

*.*

Chibs didn't sleep the hour and a half he was in the back room. He laid awake, staring at the ceiling as dread crawled into his stomach and settled in his bones.

He felt nervous, jittery. Antsy and unsettled. He needed to find Juice.

Fuck. He sat up quickly, running a hand through his already messy hair for the millionth time in the past couple hours. He glanced at his cell and saw he still had ten minutes. His leg bounced impatiently and he swallowed nervously.

Chibs shouldn't've let Juice run off by himself. Normally, under different circumstances he would've. But Chibs had seen how Juice had acted lately. How tense he was, how much weight he had lost. How he wasn't excited and bouncy anymore, and the circles under his eyes deepened until they turned purple in their intensity. He didn't know what was wrong with Juice, but he knew he should've made him stay.

Especially after all that shit at the warehouse; with Miles. Chibs knew it had gotten to him, he could see it in the way Juice had shaken for an hour afterwards. He had sat in the clubhouse with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands when Chibs had checked on him. He didn't know what to say—he couldn't imagine having been in Juice's position and having to kill a brother that had turned—so he said nothing and turned and walked away without a word.

Five more fucking minutes, shit. He stood and paced, shoving his restless hands in his front pockets. He didn't know what was wrong. But he needed to find Juice. He didn't know what it was, or why every cell in him was telling him that he had to locate the other man, but he needed to find Juice.

Goddamn it, goddamn it, where was he?

Chibs picked up his cell, hoping to see a text or missed call, returned call, _something _from Juice but there was none. There was nothing. There had been nothing since Chibs had last seen him.

A minute before his time was up—and fuck it, Bobby could get the hell over it if he was going to get bitchy over a minute—he walked out of the door and into the main part of the clubhouse. Everything was winding down, with most of his brothers either home or passed out with a woman or two near or on them. He saw Bobby sitting at the bar, exactly where he had left him an hour and twenty-nine minutes ago.

Bobby quickly stood when he saw Chibs, and motioned a surprisingly awake and remotely sober looking Tig over. Seeing Chibs' frown, Bobby held up his hands. "He's not gonna cuff you again; he wants to go with."

Chibs scowled at the other man in question. "Thought yeh were against me going to find Juicy?"

"I was against you not thinking it through, man." Tig rubbed the back of his neck, looking concerned and that was the only reason Chibs didn't push any further. That and the fact that he wanted to get out of there quickly and find Juice.

So instead he nodded once to the surprise of the other men, and walked out the door, expecting them to follow but not really caring either way.

He made his way over to the truck, ignoring the wary looks sent his way by Tig and Bobby. He nodded to Bobby, and dug his cell out of his pocket again to see if Juice had replied. Nothing. "Bobby, you take your bike. Search his place, the local bars, and the police station."

"Think he's gonna be there?"

Chibs didn't, to his unease. He shook his head. "No, but I need you to check. If you hear anything, call me. Tig and I are going to check the warehouse first."

Tig frowned at him. "The warehouse?" he asked, looking back and forth between Chibs and Bobby. "Why the hell would he be there?"

Chibs shifted impatiently, ready to leave and needing to find Juice. "I dannae, et's a fucking hunch; can weh go now?"

He climbed into the driver's side of the truck, noticing the look exchanged between Bobby and Tig but not even bothering. He had more important things to handle; things he felt should've been handled more than an hour and a fucking half ago.


	3. Chapter 3

**No, I don't own Sons of Anarchy. No, I am not Kurt Sutter. No, I am not receiving any profit from this whatsoever. I'm pretty much using the characters as my own puppets to pull with marionette strings for mine and others' enjoyment. **

**Just a heads up, I am definitely changing the title of this story. For some reason On the Leaves just doesn't fit well, but it was the only thing I could come up with when I posted it. It's going to be changed to Drawing Regrets (from a line in the song "What I've Done"). **

**Ah, and I've typed this story entirely to Linkin Park. Honestly, these songs, for those of you interested, fit Juice's and Chibs' mind frames so well. Just read the lyrics, or listen to he song, but it's pretty much what inspired this story.**

**Shadow of the Day, Bleed It Out, What I've Done, Leave Out All the Rest, New Divide, Given Up, Crawling, Iridescent, and The Catalyst.**

**Now, you may go on and read the next chapter :) **

"_So what's the deal with you and the new kid?" _

_Chibs glanced up from his beer to see Tig leaning on the arm of the couch, peering down at him in interest. Chibs cocked an eyebrow and lifted the bottle to his lips, saying nothing._

_Tig frowned, nudging Chibs in the shoulder. "Hello? Aren't you gonna answer my question?"_

"_I don' really know what your question is. The deal?" Chibs asked finally, glancing at Tig._

"_Well yeah," he looked across the room to where Juice was sitting at the bar, headphones in as he typed away on his computer. "You guys don't seem as—tense. Well," he amended, giving Chibs a pointed look. "You don't anyway. What's the deal?"_

_Chibs shrugged, watching as Juice concentrated, a slight furrow in his brow and looking as serious as Chibs had ever seen except for those short moments out on the yard after the fire. "Nothin'" he said finally, turning away and still feeling confused. "There's no deal."_

_Tig snorted and gave him an incredulous glance, but he said nothing more. Instead he reached over to swipe Chibs' beer, and ignoring the glare being sent his way he started away, tossing a careless "If you say so," over his shoulder. _

_Chibs slumped down against the cushions, tilting his head back to lean against the back of the sofa, eyes once again drawn toward the bar and the man sitting there. _

_*.*_

_Chibs sighed, rolling his eyes as he heard Tig's prodding voice. It was getting irritating. The man sure knew how to nag, that was for damn sure. He made his way into the hallway, ready to give the Sergeant at Arms a piece of his mind at not even being able to fucking piss without him talking his ear off when he heard Juice's voice. _

_It was weeks after the fire and Tig just wouldn't let up. Chibs told him it was nothing because he still didn't even really know where he stood with Juice. It didn't satisfy Tig though, who had made it his life's mission to figure out what had changed. Chibs suspected it was out of pure boredom considering nothing had been going on in Charming since the Sons had decided to lay low after the botched gun run. Going weeks without even a bit of violence must've pushed all of Tig's irritating buttons. _

_But as far as Chibs knew, Tig had never gone after Juice for information. And Chibs had become very acquainted with that wheedling tone of voice that Tig had adopted. _

"_So? What's the deal, man?" Chibs rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall in the hallway and eavesdropped without a bit of remorse. _

_Chibs couldn't see them, but he could picture the confused expression all too clearly on Juice's face as he replied. "What are you talking about?" he asked. _

"_You know," Tig paused a moment, and if Chibs knew Tig as well as he thought he did, the other man was probably making a frustrated hand gesture. "Between you and Chibs."_

"_Uhh, sorry man, but I have no clue what you're talking about."_

_Tig sighed, and Chibs felt his mouth quirk at how irritated the sound was. "I mean, what's going on? Between you two? Did you settle everything? Does he trust you? Did you finally remove the stick from his ass and beat him over the head with it? Do you guys hate each other and are just pretending to be on better terms for the sake of the club?" Chibs could practically hear the glare in his voice as he continued. "What is going on?"_

_There was silence for a long moment, and Juice said at length, "Tig. Man, are you feelin' okay?"_

_Chibs bit his lip to keep from laughing even as he felt his curiosity nearly overwhelm him as he too waited for Juice's answer. He'd like to know where they stood too. He'd be willing to mend things—that wouldn't even need to be mended if Chibs wasn't such as self-righteous and judgmental bastard to begin with—if Juice wanted it. As it stood, Chibs had no clue what the other guy thought and felt kind of helpless._

"_Yes, I am feeling _fine_," Tig replied, sounding terse. "But if either of you would answer my questions I'd feel a lot better."_

_It was quiet again, and Chibs heard a sound that he recognized as one of Juice's habits when he was thinking. He was moving his beer bottle along the wooden bar, in circles through the condensation dripping off the bottle. Chibs had seen him do it many times before. When Chibs had seen him do it the first couple times, he just thought the kid wasn't paying attention, instead finding the water more interesting. It frustrated him at first. None of the other club members thought anything of it, of what Chibs had thought was absent-mindedness. Seeing him do it over the past few weeks made him change his views as he had to do about so many other things regarding the man. He wasn't ignoring anyone; it was a habit of his as he tried to gather his thoughts and figure out the right way to word things. _

"_I don't really know," he said at last, and Chibs could imagine the shrug that accompanied the off-handed statement. _

"_Nu uh. No. You don't think for that long—and as much as you like to play dumb, we all know otherwise. Well, maybe not Chibs, but that's beside the point. Anyway. C'mon man," with anyone else the tone would've been classified as a whine. But Chibs knew better than to even think that, otherwise Tig would definitely get his share of violence. "What is it?"_

_Juice sounded faintly amused. "When did you become such a gossip, Tig?"_

"_I am not and stop trying to change the subject. Why are you both deflecting?"_

_Juice paused and then replied, sounding defeated and not like he really cared one way or the other. "I dunno. I did my part. I tried to prove to him that he could trust me. Hell, I've been doin' it or the past year and a half. But whatever. As it stands, he still hates me and doesn't trust me as far as he could throw me." He paused again and Chibs deduced he had taken a drink of his beer since the sound of glass setting on the wood sounded a moment later. _

_Chibs had to fight to peer around the corner because hate him? He'd never hated the lad, not really. Just found him a bit off at first. Well, for a while. A long while. _

_But he never hated the kid. _

"_Huh," Tig said, sounding uncertain. "Really?"_

"_Mmhm." Juice replied noncommittally. "Now can you leave him alone about it? He's really beginning to get irritated."_

_Tig sounded as surprised as Chibs felt. "What? You knew?"_

"_That you were pestering him constantly? You're not as slick as you'd like to think, man. And I heard you the first time a while back," he sounded amused. "Just 'cause I had headphones on doesn't mean something was playing. And you talk loudly when you're irritated."_

_Chibs turned back around, heading down the hallway toward the bathroom to give them a few minutes and to make it seem as if he wasn't just listening in in the last few minutes of their conversation. He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door silently, leaning back against it and remembering how tired Juice's voice was when he stated matter-of-factly that Chibs hated him. "Well," he said, at a loss, the sound echoing off the tiles. "Shet."_

_*.*_

"You okay?" Tig's voice was quiet in the darkness of the cab.

Chibs didn't say anything for a long while, his fingers tight on the steering wheel as he drove just a bit too fast as he made his way out of Charming. "No," he said honestly, his stomach in knots. "Not really."

The only sound for a minute was the tires rolling on the pavement and the heater working slowly. "You really think he's in trouble?"

Chibs shook his head, willing the truck to drive just a little faster, willing his phone to ring, willing Juice to text or Bobby to call and tell him that Juice was fine, he was safe. "I know he is. Somethin's off with Juice."

"We'll find him." Was all Tig said, and did little to reassure Chibs. Not that much could reassure him at the moment. He wouldn't be at ease until they found Juice.

"Yeah," he said, even to his own ears not sounding at all convinced.

*.*

Bobby sighed, stepping out of the police station with a heavy feeling in his gut after speaking with Roosevelt. He had been asking around the officers to see if they'd seen the boy when Roosevelt had stepped out of his office curiously.

"There a problem here?" He'd asked walking over, giving Bobby a disdainful look.

Which he had returned quite easily, turning to face the other man. "Just checkin' to see if you're picking on our boy again."

Roosevelt had frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Since you seem to have it out for Juice so much, I came to check if you were holding him again. Maybe some violated parking tickets as an excuse this time."

Roosevelt had folded his arms across his chest, and Bobby saw the momentary flash of unease in his eyes. "I haven't seen the guy. None of my business. Now, how about you stop distracting my officers and let them get back to work?"

Bobby stepped forward, and normally he knew that he wasn't an intimidating man, but at the moment he was at his wit's end after finding neither hide nor hair of Juice anywhere. He stepped up to Roosevelt, who still had his arms folded. "'That guy' is missing," he said quietly staring directly into Roosevelt's eyes. "And I know you have no humanity, or any compassion for people you consider chess pieces. But if I find out you knew where he was, and you weren't telling me anything," he stepped back, keeping his gaze steady. "The whole Sons of Anarchy will have nothing on me."

He turned around without another word and left the room. If he had turned around, he would've seen Roosevelt's worried expression as he walked back into his office as he remembered the defeated man sitting in his office only a few hours earlier.

Bobby now walked over to his bike, pulling out his cell, and dialing the number he didn't want to dial if he didn't have any good news. It barely even rang once before it was picked up. "Aye," he heard Chibs say, his voice wary, panicked, hopeful and desperate all at once. "Juice?"

Bobby swallowed, shaking his head though Chibs couldn't see him. "No, no word. I haven't found him anywhere."

It was silent on the other end, and suddenly he heard Tig's confused voice. "Hello?"

"Tig?" Bobby frowned. "Where's Chibs?"

"Currently trying to get us killed. We're almost at the warehouse and our Scotsman has lost any respect for posted speed limits. Shit," he swore softly. "Nothing on Juice I'm guessing?"

"Zip. He hasn't been seen, and his apartment's locked and empty. His bike's not out front either."

Tig's voice was strangled and Bobby didn't know if it was from Chibs' driving or his next statement. "That's 'cause his bike's here." A door slammed on the other line and Tig let out a long breath. "I got a bad feeling about this, Bobby. I'll call you back if we find him. You wanna make your way up here? For some reason I have a feeling we're going to need help."

Bobby swallowed thickly, foreboding crawling up his spine even as he started his bike. "I'm there."

He hung up as he heard Tig jump out of the truck. Bobby just found himself glad that he wasn't there at that exact moment.

*.*

Chibs' breath was ragged as he jogged up to the warehouse. "Juice," he called loudly. There was no answer, and from what he could see, the place was locked and empty. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Juice," he called again, and felt his voice crack.

He ran his hands through his hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where else could he be? Where else could he be?

He heard Tig jog up beside him, panting. "Anything?"

Chibs just shook his head, looking around and cursing the fact that he'd forgotten his glasses. It was dark and thick with trees and branches and where the hell was Juice if he wasn't in the warehouse?

Chibs could've sworn he felt his heart stop, and he didn't know why he felt so desperate, but fuck it all something was wrong, he knew something was wrong, and he always trusted his instincts before when it came to his Juicy boy so why stop now? And he knew where he would be, just as some part of him had known that Juice would be up here, out and away from Charming.

"I know where he is," Chibs said, out of breath and already making his way towards the place he had found Juice with blood covering his face and a dead brother next to him.


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own Sons of Anarchy. **

**I am so torn. Honestly. This chapter doesn't tell you much about Juice's fate but I'm still kind of working on that. Next chapter should be up in about three days. **

_The air was stilted as the two walked along the edge of the building, around to the front door of their warehouse. _

"_I tried to talk him out of it," Juice said suddenly, his face awkward after the prolonged silence. _

_Chibs looked at him in confusion, and the other man motioned in between them with one stiff hand. "Ah, this. Tig and Bobby tried also. We didn't—well, didn't plan It, I mean."_

_Chibs frowned, beginning to understand and again felt a stab of guilt as he grasped what he was saying. "You tried to talk Clay out of sending you with me to do rounds for the next month?"_

"_Well, yeah," Juice swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't work out too well, but yeah. So, yeah. Sorry. Tig said he'd be willing to do either of us physical harm to get out of it though." Juice said with a strained smile._

_Chibs hated that smile. Not Juice's smile, but how edgy and tight it had become around Chibs—how forced it had turned. Chibs knew he was trying to keep up the image that things were fine and dandy between them, but even the other club members had started to notice. _

_Which made Chibs think that Clay had done this on purpose. _

_But Chibs didn't mind, not really. He wanted to change things between him and the other man. He just didn't really know how to convince him that he did trust Juice—and he most definitely did _not _hate him. _

_Chibs held back a wince at recalling a moment about a week back, a couple days after he'd eavesdropped on a conversation between Juice and Tig. Tig had cornered Chibs and more or less ripped him a new one, shoving Juice's beliefs in Chibs' face and making the ever present guilt stab painfully. Tig didn't know that Chibs already knew; which kind of made it all the worse. Tig had told him to get his head out of his ass, and if he did hate Juice he had better get the fuck over it. And if he didn't, then he'd better fix that damn thing between him and Juice, whatever it may be, because it was starting to affect atmosphere in the club. _

_Chibs realized how long it had been since Juice had spoken, and everything was awkward again. He shifted uncomfortably, sighing in relief when the front door came into view. Their job that night was to stand for a few hours, and switch off with Tig and Clay next. _

_Three more hours to go, Chibs thought, glancing at Juice who was most definitely not looking back at him. Chibs sighed again, knowing it'd be a long night and the next few weeks even longer. _

*.*

Tig cursed as Chibs took off once again, trying desperately to keep up with him. "Where the fuck are you even going?" he yelled ahead. Chibs either didn't hear him, or he was just ignoring him because he kept running.

Tig held back a groan, one more for show than anything since his stomach remained knotted. He followed Chibs, and with a start knew where he was heading.

_Shit, _he thought with no small amount of dread. _This can't be good. _

Chibs was a bit further up than him when they reached the fencing where Miles was killed. Chibs kept moving, up through the small patch of trees. Tig felt a bit confused but followed anyway.

Tig slowed when he saw Chibs stopped dead. He made his way forwards a bit more, and craned his head to see where Chibs was looking. Tig felt himself jerk to a stop, even as he shook his head, seeing a form hanging from a tree. One that looked suspiciously like a body.

"No," Tig whispered, eyes wide and stomach dropping. "Oh, fuck."

A strangled and frantic noise sounded, and with a start Tig realized it was Chibs who had uttered it and was now sprinting to the tree. Tig ran after him as the other man tried to climb the tree, pulling himself up onto the first branch, which swayed and creaked ominously.

Tig got closer and saw that it was indeed Juice. He looked away from his face quickly, refusing to see and comprehend. He climbed the tree with Chibs, where the other man was already on the branch where the—

Tig squinted, and let out a startled breath when he saw that it was chains wrapped around the branch.

Chibs was trying to get the chains off, yanking at them desperately, but to no avail. The weight on the other end tightened the chains on the branch. Seeing this, Chibs started clawing at the tree branch, looking as if he was trying to break it, his fingers beginning to bleed from scraping with the effort.

Chibs let out a frustrated whine, and snapped Tig out of his dazed reverie. He moved forward and pulled Chibs' hands away. "Chibs," he said, his voice choked and not even sounding like himself. "We gotta pull him up. Help me pull him up. We gotta pull him up."

That seemed to get through to Chibs who nodded frantically, and moved to the first branch to reach out and push Juice's—Tig clamped off that thought quickly because it was not a _body _it was _Juice. _Chibs reached out to push Juice up to the second branch without pulling on the chains around his neck anymore.

He heard Chibs pant with the effort, and Tig leaned down over the second branch to reach for the form being lifted toward him. Tig groaned as he pulled, and finally got Juice over the edge. Tig heard Chibs make his way back up, but Tig paid him no mind as he worked to get the chains loosened around Juice's throat.

Tig couldn't look at Juice's face, he couldn't do it. It was bad enough seeing the bruised and torn skin under the chains that he worked to remove. He couldn't look at his face. He couldn't.

Finally, the chains had loosened, and Tig threw them away from Juice's bod—from _Juice. _The second branch creaked with the added weight, but Tig didn't care.

"How long, how long?" He heard Chibs mutter as he placed his fingers at the boy's neck, and then laid his cheek against his chest. Chibs let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Oh shit, oh shit, Juicy, how long, how long?"

"We have to get him down," Tig said again, and Chibs nodded, clambering down to the first branch and holding his arms out for Juice. Tig lowered him into Chibs' arms slowly and with much effort at the awkward weight, and Chibs jumped from the tree without any more help.

Tig was too surprised to make a noise and hurried down after them. By the time he had made his way back to solid ground, Chibs was already breathing into Juice's mouth. He pulled back and pushed on his chest three times. He leaned back down again, and Tig saw Juice's chest expand as Chibs breathed.

Tig didn't know how long he stood like that—how long Chibs breathed. But Chibs had tears streaking down his face and he muttered between breathing and trying to get Juice's heart to respond. "Shit, I'm sorry. C'mon Juicy, please. No, c'mon, breathe, please? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please Juicy c'mon."

Tig pulled his cell from his pocket as it rang, and it didn't even deter Chibs. Tig answered without seeing who was calling. "Yeah," he answered, voice rough and not knowing what to do and feeling helpless.

"Tig? Tig you okay? What's wrong? Where are you guys?" came Bobby's voice.

"Oh shit," Tig heard his own voice break as Chibs let out sobbing breaths into Juice's mouth and frantically pushed at his chest. "Juice he's—he's—" he couldn't bring himself to say it, couldn't bring himself to think it. "He's hurt, he's hurt real bad, he's hurt, Bobby."

Bobby sounded calm all of a sudden, and if Tig had thought about it, he'd know it was because Tig sounded panicked. "Have you called an ambulance? Or Tara?"

"What? No, no. I—Bobby, I don't know. Shit. Chibs."

"I'll call your right back, Tig. Go help Chibs with Juice."

Tig nodded, forgetting Bobby couldn't see him, and hung up, glad to be following orders. He slid over to Chibs who hadn't stopped once.

*.*

"Nine one-one, what's your emergency?"

Bobby closed his eyes tiredly as he made his way off his bike and over to the warehouse. He relayed what he knew and the location, and was assured a medic would be out in minutes.

He hung up and just stood there for a moment, looking at Juice's bike and remembering Tig's wrecked voice and the sobs and pleas he could hear in the background.


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Sons of Anarchy or any of its recognizable characters. That honor (and privilege, lucky bastard) belongs solely to Kurt Sutter. **

**And we're moving along, slowly but surely. Kind of. Well, surely enough. **

**xLila Rose, don't kill me. Just sayin'. **

**And Jesus Christ, this thing turned out to be a monster. I was going to split it into two chapters, but I was feeling generous. **

_**And—**_**as some of you know, I've been up in the air with how this story—and, subsequently, Juice's fate—would end. I'd considered doing an alternate ending, but I remained iffy about that. So, as I'm writing the last chapters of how I'm going to end **_**this**_**, I'm also going to write out the final chapters of how I could've ended it. For those of you interested in the alternate ending, all you have to do is PM me and I will make sure you're able to read it. If any of you are interested, that is. **

_Chibs hated the silence more than anything. _

_After two weeks and three hours a night of it though, he really should've been used to it. But it just grated across his skin even more as the nights wore on. That's all it was, really. Sitting next to each other awkwardly in the dark, saying nothing at all. _

_It irritated him. Maybe because he knew that Juice wouldn't've been like that with any of the other Sons. Just Chibs. _

_And maybe it irritated him when he admitted that he only had himself to blame. _

_Chibs didn't know _why _he had the sudden urge to fix things between him and the lad—they were just fine before the fucking fire. He'd had no reason to feel the ever present guilt he did now, and wasn't constantly second-guessing any misconceptions he'd had of Juice. Before, he'd just disliked him and tried to stay out of the other's way as much as possible._

_Juice didn't seem to have a problem with it and had seemed to accept it. Not, Chibs admitted to himself guiltily, stealing an uncertain glance at the other man, that he'd really paid much attention to how Juice had felt about the entire situation. _

_Half of him just wished they'd gone back to the way things were before the fire. The other half was telling him to stop being such a pussy, admit he was wrong, and see where things took them. _

_But he knew things couldn't go back, and he was kind of content being a pussy and not admitting that he was wrong. _

_Chibs let out a frustrated sigh, and it must've been louder than he'd realized because Juice glanced up from his phone—about freaking time, a part of Chibs thought sourly—for the first time that night to lift an eyebrow at him. _

"_Problem?" He asked, looking out over the porch, as if hoping to see Chibs' problem out in the woods. _

_Chibs shifted awkwardly, uncomfortable now that someone had actually said something. "Ah, no. Nothin'."_

_Juice sighed this time, setting his phone aside completely and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, leveling Chibs with another one of those surprisingly serious glances. "Listen," he started, "We've still got about two weeks left of this. Honestly, this is pretty fuckin' awkward, and the silence is getting on my nerves. You don't want to be here—and especially not with me. If you really want, I can somehow convince Clay to get one of us off of this and switch us off with another one of the guys"_

_Chibs blinked, surprised to hear a couple of his own thoughts being said by Juice. He opened his mouth to say he didn't have a problem with Juice being there at all, but what came out instead was, "And how would ye go about doin' that?"_

_Juice sighed, leaning back and rubbing his hands over his face. "I don't know," he said, his voice muffled by his hands. He dropped them on his lap to lie limply. "I'll take Tig up on his offer or somethin'" he said, waving one of the hands. _

_Chibs frowned, trying to remember what offer that was. His frown deepened when he remembered a remark Juice had said off-handedly a few weeks ago. "To beat one of us up?" He asked incredulously._

_Juice shrugged a shoulder, scratching his chin and shifting. "Or somethin'."_

_Chibs let out a short laugh, sitting back in his own chair. "How's about we save that for a last resort, eh?"_

_Juice shrugged again without saying anything, and to Chibs' chagrin he picked up his phone again. He barely held back another sigh. _

_*.*_

"Chibs? Hey, Chibs, c'mon man, you gotta ease back a little."

Tig's voice seemed to come from far away, muffled and distant to Chibs' ears. He jerked and shook his head, still counting as he pressed down on Juice's chest—keeping count, leaning down to breathe, up again and counting, leaning down—

"Chibs," Tig grabbed his shoulder and he shook his head again violently, concentrating. "The ambulance is almost here, Chibs, step back they'll take care of him. Come on."

_No, _he thought, still counting, _they won't. They won't take care of him—he had to, he had to take care of him, he had to help Juicy, he had to, fuck it had had _promised—

He was pulled back against his own will and struggled against Bobby's arms. _No, no, let me go, let me go, stop it, stop it, can't you see I have to help him? Juice needs help, let me go, he's _my _boy, please—_

He was whirled around, and looking at Tig. He blinked even as he shook his head, and his mind must not have caught up with his mouth which was already spouting out everything he had thought. He shook his head even as he said everything and Tig was trying to get his attention but Chibs was only thinking about Juice, lying there all alone and _not breathing _and Juice up here by himself and wrapping a _chain around his fucking neck when Chibs should've been there and couldn't they see?_

"Look at me, fuck, Chibs come on," Chibs voice finally slowed as Tig's rose in volume and frustration, and when Chibs looked away from Juice for a second, he could see Tig's red rimmed eyes which made him stay quiet. "You can go with him, okay? But I don't think—" to Chibs' shock Tig's voice actually cracked, and the other man shut his eyes for a moment. He opened them a second later, frowning as he glanced behind Chibs to where Bobby was restraining him. He looked back at Chibs, still frowning. "Are you going to stop them from doing their jobs too? Are you going to act like this when they try to save his life? You've gotta sit back and let them do their thing."

Part of Chibs balked at being talked to like he was simple, at the fact that yes, of course he understood that if only Tig would step the fuck back and Bobby would let him go. The other part, however, wasn't nearly as eloquent, focusing on the fact that they weren't getting here soon enough and that was _Juice, his Juice, _and what if they were hurting him by not helping him?

But any arguments he had were cut off when the sound of sirens finally split the air, and Chibs jerked once in surprise because he hadn't even heard them coming. But from the sound of things, they were right there, and sure as shit, a couple MTs were already making their way into the clearing where they were with a stretcher.

The next few moments were a blur, as Tig rushed over to tell them everything they knew, and Bobby still held him back as the paramedics talked too quickly and Chibs didn't even catch a word. Chibs was wrestling with his instinct to rush over and push them away from Juice because obviously, they were not helping him, and they needed to get their hands _off _his boy.

"Calm down," Bobby said from behind him, making Chibs grit his teeth in frustration. He'd be a fuck of a lot calmer if the bloody fucking wanker behind him _let him go _so he could be with his boy.

Chibs felt overwhelmed in a way he hadn't in a long time. He was torn between hitting Bobby—the closest one and the one holding him back from Juice—and breaking down because the fact that Juice had killed himself—_no, tried to, tried to kill himself tried to kill himself_—and Chibs hadn't _seen _and hadn't even helped him, was seriously fucking with his head.

Chibs' head snapped up, and he almost broke Bobby's fingers when she tried to free himself after seeing the paramedics moving the stretcher with Juice on it away. He jerked in Bobby's grip even as he glared at Tig who was jogging towards them. "Yeh said, you bloody fuckin'—"

"You can go," Tig said quickly, nodding at Bobby who let him go, "They just have to move him and get him hooked up in the ambulance. We're gonna take the truck right behind you."

Chibs didn't even respond. He pushed past Tig and ran after the retreating medics who were carrying his boy between them.

*.*

The sigh Tig let out was explosive as he dropped into a crouch and gripped his hair between his hands. Bobby was still trying to grasp everything that had happened within the past fifteen minutes, still feeling as if everything was unreal.

Tig, it seemed, had come to grips just as well as he had. He stood again, looking flustered, eyes wild when he looked at Bobby. He opened his mouth once and shut it again after not saying anything. He blew out a shaky breath, "Fuck. I—" he shook his head, looking lost. "Fuck."

Bobby simply nodded, the one word moving through his own head. Which was better than the blankness that had settled since he'd found Tig and Chibs, on either side of Juice who was pale and obviously unconscious if not—Bobby swallowed, feeling unbearably sad. Not only for Juice, but for Chibs too, who had been as much determined as desperate when Bobby had come across him. Bobby'd only seen Chibs so out of control once before and even then it was nothing like this.

That'd involved Juice too.

Bobby spared a glance for Tig, feeling sad for him also. Tig had stood by watching Chibs try to breathe for Juice and looking helpless as Bobby had ever seen him. The other man tried to act like he could care less—but the people in the club were his life. And he'd always been somewhat protective of Juice. Not nearly as much as Chibs, Bobby conceded, but he'd certainly kill whoever would even think about hurting Juice.

Bobby felt his own guilt, but he was certain it was nothing compared to the other two men.

"Come on," Bobby said softly, gripping Tig's arm and pulling him slightly. "Let's go on. Tara should be at the hospital—she'd said she'd pull whatever strings she could."

"Good, that's good," Tig nodded, letting Bobby pull him and actually looking somewhat relived at the mention of Tara. His shoulders even relaxed somewhat. "That's real good. She'll—she'll help him. She'll help Juice."

Bobby didn't say anything more until they were both situated in the quiet and tense truck, trailing behind the ambulance whose lights and sirens moved farther away as it sped to the hospital. "Did they say anything?" Bobby asked quietly. "About Juice."

Bobby glanced at Tig when he didn't say anything, and saw a muscle jump in his jaw as he frowned. Bobby could see the worry in his expression though, so he just waited. Finally, Tig said tersely, "Wind pipe's damaged for sure. Not so certain about his spine—which is why the neck brace." He leaned forward, his head in his hands. "I don't—his heart. It was a long time; I don't even know how long he was—up there. He wasn't breathing when we found him. I thought he was dead. But the pulse was—there. Thready. Slow. Barely even existent. But there. Brain damage—shit Bobby, shit I don't know."

His voice broke at the end and the rest of the ride was spent in silence until they pulled into the emergency parking lot at St. Thomas. Tig frowned in confusion, looking around the lot before turning to Bobby. "The guys? They're not—"

"They're not here," Bobby interrupted quietly, cutting the engine and getting out of the truck.

"What?" Tig sounded somewhere between furious and incredulous. He slammed his door as he came around the truck to catch up with Bobby. "Why the fuck not?"

Bobby wasn't fazed, but sighed as they entered through the automatic doors, and into the waiting room where only Chibs was waiting—and anxiously, it seemed. "I didn't call them."

Tig didn't say anything for a long moment, only stared at him in disbelief, and lowered his voice to a hiss after glancing at Chibs. "And why the fuck not?"

Bobby moved them over to a corner so Chibs wouldn't hear. Not that it seemed to have mattered either way—the other man didn't even seem to notice that they had come in. "You're not thinking straight—"

"Excuse me if I'm not up to scratch, one of our fucking brothers just tired too off—"

"Exactly," Bobby said firmly. "A _brother _just tried to kill himself. Sons don't try to kill themselves. Tara won't say anything to the others, and I don't even think Opie or Jax would, either. But Piney? Happy? _Clay?_" Bobby shook his head, swallowing and feeling tired. "They'd make sure that Juice's patch would be gone. Not to mention," he added with a glance at the other side of the room, "I don't think Chibs is up to more company."

Tig sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs, placing an elbow on his arm and covering his mouth with that hand, looking away. He shook his head. "This is so fucked."

Bobby nodded, agreeing completely. He sighed again, and left Tig to walk over to Chibs. He sat down in the chair next to him slowly—fuck his hips were killing him tonight—and laid a hand on the other man's shoulder to grab his attention. "They say anything?" he asked quietly, peering around and trying to catch a glimpse of the other man's face.

"They wouldn't let me go with him," he said, staring ahead at nothing. He blinked and shook his head, looking at Bobby, and he was taken aback at the exhaustion and mingled despair he saw on Chibs' face. "Why the fuck would he do this? Why didn't he—say anything?" he shook his head, lifting his hands and then letting them fall uselessly again as he stared away. He said, so softly that Bobby didn't even think he was meant to hear, "Why didn't I see anything?"

Bobby said nothing. He didn't have answers, and he knew Chibs wouldn't want comfort or meaningless words. All the other man wanted at that moment was the boy currently inside the hospital room.

"Got his heart started again," Chibs said after long minutes. "In the ambulance. Have no clue how the fuck they did it. Who knows how long Juice could've been—hanging there. But it was steadier than when we were in the clearing." He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing. "He—ah. Went into shock. Started—started jerking around. Pulling at his neck brace." Chibs let out a long unsteady breath, putting his arms on his knees and cupping his head in his hands. "Fuck. Fuck."

"Did he wake up at all?"

Chibs shook his head, once.

Bobby said nothing more, and stood to relay the news to Tig, who was still sitting on the opposite side of the room in the exact position Bobby had left him in.

*.*

Chibs really couldn't recall ever being more tired. It weighed down on him, making him feel heavy and useless.

Or guilty. He didn't think he'd ever felt more guilty.

The ride over was absolute hell. Chibs couldn't get the image of Juice seizing up tightly, shaking and jerking the stretcher around out of his head.

This was all so goddamn fucked up.

He lifted his head slightly to see Bobby on the other side of the room, talking quietly to Tig who seemed to not be paying attention and hanging on every word at once. He was looking away, and not moving a muscle, but Chibs could practically see him absorbing every word and inflection of Bobby's.

Chibs didn't wonder where the rest of the guys were. He knew it was best that they weren't there—that _Clay_ wasn't there. He knew what they'd think, what they'd do.

It pissed him off, but he understood.

He just wondered how the hell he was going to keep this from them. He glanced across the room again, knowing Bobby wouldn't say anything—at first. He'd hold out to see if Juice—Chibs swallowed, clenching his eyes shut tightly. If Juice made it. And if he did, he'd hold out even longer to see how it affected him.

As long as it didn't directly affect the club, Chibs knew Bobby wouldn't say anything.

Tig on the other hand. Chibs sighed. He didn't know what the fuck he would do. He was Clay's right hand. He told the guy everything. Usually, they were closer than most spouses. Well, maybe not lately. But still. As long as he wore the Sgt. at Arms patch, Chibs had no clue where Tig stood.

Chibs just wanted to rewind the past few hours. Go find Juice when he had wanted to. Hell, even the past week or two and actually talk to him when he saw that something wasn't right. He'd just wished he had done something so they wouldn't've been sitting in the hospital emergency room.

"Chibs." He glanced up at his name and turned toward Bobby, who nodded at the doorway into the emergency room. He glanced over and stood quickly when he saw Tara, and before he knew it he had rushed over and was standing beside her.

He opened his mouth, feeling a barrage of demands and questions on his tongue, when she spoke first, laying a hand on his arm. "Before you ask, we've gotten him stable. His blood pressure is still too low, but we've eased the strain on his windpipe—which, we're very lucky it didn't collapse—and have him on oxygen." She took a deep breath and looked at the other two men he could feel behind him. "He regained consciousness once, only for a moment, but he responded to his name and it's a good sign. Brian damage is unknown as of yet, but we have him monitored and he's in ICU. He's as stable as can be expected. It's honestly," she shook her head, looking stunned but not very hopeful, "A miracle that he's even alive."

"What's that mean, though?" Tig asked, looking between everyone as if that'd give him the answers he wanted. "You mean he's still asleep? What's gonna happen?"

Tara glanced between all of them. "He's still asleep, yes. He's actually fallen into a coma, which," she hurried on as Chibs felt his stomach tighten, "Could also be a good sign."

"A good sign?" Tig asked, sounding unconvinced.

"A coma is a way for the body to heal itself. It could do lasting damage, yes, if he's under too long, but this could help him. He's stable," she repeated. "This could just be a way for his body to come to grips with the fact that it's still working and begin to regenerate itself. Think of it as a healing trance."

"And if he's under too long?" Tig shot back, and Chibs was grateful Tig was asking all the questions that seemed to be lodged in his throat.

Tara shook her head again, "_If _it comes to that, we'll deal with it then. For now, be thankful he's breathing." She softened her voice as she gazed at the three of them. "You did good." She cast a meaningful glance at Tig and the hand on his arm squeezed. "You did good," she repeated. "What you did probably gave him a fighting chance. Both of you," she said, looking at Tig. "You helped Juice, okay?"

Chibs nodded, his throat filling. "When—" he cleared his throat when it came out rough. "When can we see him?"

Tara glanced behind her then back at them. "I'll clear it," she promised. "I'll pull some strings. Are the rest of the guys going to be here?"

"No," Tig said firmly, and both Chibs and Tara glanced at him in surprise. "They won't be. Not even Jax," he said with a significant look at Tara.

She frowned but nodded, and the look she gave them all said she expected an explanation later. "Okay," was all she said for now, nodding. "I'll get it done."

She was about to turn, when Chibs finally found his voice again. "Tara," he said. She paused and turned to look at him expectantly. Chibs blinked quickly, then shook his head and said simply, "Thanks."

Her eyes softened again, and she reached up to lay a hand on his cheek, making him have to blink his eyes hard to clear them. "Anytime," she said softly. She gave the other two men small, sad smiles. "That's what family's for, right?"

She dropped her hand and turned back around to make it so they could go see Juice.

*.*

Tig watched her go, thanking every fucking deity that may or may not be out there that she was there. He let out an explosive sigh, running his hand over the bottom half of his face, and glanced at Bobby. The other man was gazing at him questioningly, and though Tig hated that he even had to, he nodded.

He wouldn't say anything. He'd never say anything if it meant hurting Juice. Or, by default, Chibs.

Who, at the moment, was still staring blankly at the doors Tara had just exited through. Tig shook his head again and looked away, not knowing what the hell to do for him and knowing better than to even try.

Bobby turned toward him, and spoke softly. "Im gonna make a coffee run. Tara looks like she's about to fall over, and I don't think any of us will be sleeping any time soon."

Tig nodded, but grimaced. "Just none of that crap here, 'kay? Tastes worse than cop shop coffee."

Bobby snorted, the first sound of amusement coming from any of them in hours. "Coffee priss."

"I'm just specific." Tig shot back, feeling a small bit lighter now that they knew for sure Juice was alive.

Bobby shook his head, smiling tiredly, though the lines around his eyes eased somewhat. "Whatever you say, Tigger." He glanced over behind Tig at Chibs, and he frowned suddenly, looking around and faintly alarmed. "Where's Chibs?"

Tig spun around, and sure, enough, Chibs wasn't there. Tig swore, running a hand through his hair. "Leave him alone," he said, shaking his head. "He wouldn't've left the hospital since Juice is still here. Just—let him do his thing."

Tig shook his head, blinking and feeling a stab of guilt when he remembered saying something along those lines earlier that night regarding Juice.

*.*

Chibs moved quietly along the empty hospital hallways. He heard murmuring around a corner and peered around the corner of the wall and saw Tara talking to a nurse sitting behind a desk in the ICU section. They seemed to be arguing, Tara pleading more than anything, and Chibs was struck once again by how much she did for their club.

Tara leaned over the desk and said something that made the nurse grit her jaw and pale slightly, but she nodded jerkily. Tara stood there for a moment longer then stepped back. "Room 313," she said over her shoulder, as she walked away. "If I find out otherwise I'll find you."

Tara moved out of sight, and the nurse behind the desk began to mutter angrily, slamming back in her chair and standing, stomping out a door behind the desk. Chibs moved forward quickly and down the hall.

He paused in front of room 313, seeing the blinds closed. He took a deep breath and walked in the dimly lit room.

The first glance was like a punch to the gut. If anything, Juice looked worse than he had before, but that could just be from the white hospital sheets and gown. The IV's in his arms and the oxygen mask on his face weren't helping much either. His skin was gray and pale, the lines around his eyes deep even though he was sleeping.

Chibs stepped forward quietly, and his chest relaxed and tightened at once when he saw Juice's moving rhythmically. Slowly, and lightly, but it was moving and that was all Chibs cared about. Chibs stepped forward and laid a shaking hand on Juice's chest, exhaling out a shaky breath when he felt the heart beating lightly under his palm. "Fuck," he said softly, swallowing down the roughness in his throat. His eyes moved towards Juice's neck, and a pang went through him when he saw the bandages lining it.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and carefully, leaned down until his ear was even with Juice's chest. He concentrated, frowning, and to his relief, he actually heard Juice's heart beating. Overwhelmed, he stepped back quickly away from the bed and walked backwards, keeping Juice in his vision until he left the room.

He hurried down the hallway thinking _alive, he's alive, he's breathing_, not even caring if the bitchy nurse saw him, he could give a flying fuck later, he just needed to find somewhere needed to get somewhere before he completely freaked the fuck out.

He saw the sign to the bathroom and pushed through quickly, locking it behind him and pacing back and forth in the small room, hearth thumping in his chest as he tried to get himself under control but all he could think was thank god, thank god, thank god, Juicy was okay, he was breathing he was _breathing_.

Chibs sat down heavily where he was, right on the floor and leaned his head between his bent knees, think of Juice hanging from the chain, and Juice in the past week, stressed and tired looking, Juice lying on the ground looking fucking _dead_, Juice in the clubhouse, all alone, blood still stained on his face and hands, Juice beneath him who _wasn't breathing _and god Juice in that hospital bed, pale and so thin—how had he not seen it?—but _alive, god he was alive._

It was too much, too fucking much, and with the hard knot of guilt in his stomach, remembering Juice's heart beating under his hand and in his ear, Chibs sat on the cold floor of the hospital bathroom and wept.

**Next chapter, I'm thinking, should be up by Thursday at the latest. Possibly. Probably.**

**But I'm not making any promises, so don't hold me to it. **

**And for those of you reading 'The Ties That Bind'—heads up, update won't be until tomorrow—pushed off a day, thanks RL—but it should be significantly longer than the others. **

**Just sayin'. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Sons of Anarchy or the characters or actors therein. I just use them for my own personal benefit. **

_Juice was clicking his thumbs. _

_Chibs noticed he did it on occasion—when he was bored, nervous, or deep in thought if he didn't have a bottle to mess with the condensation. The noise used to grate on his nerves—the constant _click, click, click, _as one thumb knuckle was popped after the other. But now—with it being the only sound in the still-silent atmosphere—he took a bit of comfort in the sound. _

_He glanced up at the other man and saw his brow furrowed as he stared down at the wooden porch beneath his feet, both hands on his knees as he clicked his thumbs absent-mindedly. Thinking, then. _

_Chibs pressed his back more firmly against the pillar he was once again leaning against, one leg spread out in front of him and the other bent at the knee. He tilted his head up to try counting the stars once again to alleviate his boredom. He'd done this every night for the past three weeks—you'd think he'd learn to bring something to occupy himself instead of agonizing over the man across from him. Not that he agonized, just—worried. _

_He was stifling a sigh—after last week's conversation, and he did not want to get into that strange setting again—when Juice said, "I know you were eavesdropping. 'Couple weeks ago. When I was talking to Tig." The clicking abruptly cut off as he spoke, his gaze still on the porch. _

_He blinked at the suddenness of the statement and fought down the sheepish feeling burning the back of his neck. "Ah. And?"_

"_And," Juice said, sitting back and mimicking Chibs' posture as he leaned against the opposite pillar, fixing Chibs with a raised eyebrow. "You've obviously been dying to say somethin' since. I can practically hear you thinking and stuttering over whether or not to just get it out. It's almost as obvious as the sighing."_

"_It is not," Chibs said defensively, flushing and trying where even to start with those statements. _

"_It really is. And it's gonna keep being as obvious—not only to me, but the club too—the longer you keep it in. So what is it? What's your deal?"_

_Chibs felt his hackles rising at the sudden onslaught of a conversation he wasn't sure he was ready for. "What is this? Therapy? We gonna talk about our feelings next?"_

"_If that's what it takes to get you to remove whatever stick you have up your ass when it involves me," Juice snapped back. "I'm just trying to get it out on the table so whatever it is that bothers you about me we can just get the fuck past it. Tig's noticed. Bobby's noticed. Jax is beginning to also, and Clay is next." _

_Chibs looked away not saying anything, though he'd noticed it too. Tig was hounding him even more, and it was all Chibs could do to avoid Bobby who wanted to talk about it. Chibs restrained an irritated frown. Weren't they supposed to be badass bikers? As far as he knew, badass bikers did not talk about their feelings. _

_He stayed silent, looking away and ignored the anxious feeling in his gut. _

_Juice sighed and leaned back once more. Chibs hazard a glance and saw the man looked somewhere between pissed and fed up. "Whatever," he said; pulling what looked like a book Chibs wasn't aware he had from behind him. "I tried."_

_If Chibs could've, he would've cursed himself in six different languages because Juice didn't speak once more through their shift. Chibs went back to counting the stars and trying to decide if he should try to fix this mess of fuck-up that started with a lack of trust. _

_*.*.*.*_

_Chibs opened his eyes to a throbbing headache and blurry vision. He groaned at the flare of pain behind his eyes and tried to lift his hand to his head. _

_Tried, being the operative key word. _

_He cursed when he realized his hands were bound behind his back, snarling when he had to blink a trail of blood from his eyes. He blew a hard breath through his nose and tried to calm himself. _

Alright, lad. _He thought, blinking until his eyes cleared and he could squint through the darkness surrounding him. _Think for bloody once.

_His eyesight adjusted until he could make out the vague dark shape of his own body. He was lying on his side, cheek pressed against cold concrete and his shoulder going numb from the pressure. Chibs shifted. He tried to look around him but it was no use-he couldn't see a damn thing. And hell if that didn't frustrate him. He shook his head. _

_He twitched his arms and was thankful that he could. Hadn't been tied up long, then, if he still had some circulation. After a curious nudge, he realized his ankles were bound also and sighed in resignation. _

_Fan-fucking-tastic. It just figured he'd be tied up and bloody with no clue how. _

"_Great. Jus' freaking great." Chibs grumbled, shifting again so he could lie on his stomach. _

_He tensed when he heard a shuffling noise close by. His eyes whizzed around the room, but he still couldn't see a damn thing. Chibs bit down on a curse and moved himself so he could prop himself up on his knees, ears open. _

_The shuffling noise continued, the sound of fabric grating against the ground. After a moment, a pained groan followed. Chibs said nothing and scooted away from the direction of the noise, eyes narrowed. _

_Silence. Then, quietly, pained, "Fuckin', mother fuckers. Shit goddamn, damn ouch."_

_Chibs felt his shoulders relax from their tense position. He never thought he'd be so happy to hear that damned voice. "Juice?" he called out quietly._

_More silence. More rustling. Another groan. "No, fuckin' Santa Claus. Shit, Chibs. What happened?"_

"_Hell if I know." Chibs groaned and tried to inch back into his original position, closer to Juice. He squinted. "Woke up bounded with a bloody poundin' headache and no clue how I got here. You alright?"_

_More silence and Chibs pushed down the wave of worry at the hesitance in it. "Yeah, I'm good. Leg's busted up some, but I'm alright."_

_Well, Chibs didn't believe that for a second. But he'd let it slide for the moment. "You remember anythin'? Anythin' at all?"_

_More rustling, a half-choked off grunt, and muffled panting. Oh yeah, Chibs didn't believe him for a moment. "Nah, man. Last I remember was sitting on the porch."_

"_Well, that's useful," Chibs said before he could stop himself. He immediately regretted it when quiet filled the room, tense and uncomfortable. _

_He sighed, finding a wall to lean against and resisted hitting his head against it. "Sorry."_

"_Yeah," Juice didn't sound like he believed him. "Are you alright? Besides your head."_

_And now he felt like a right arse. He adjusted his bound legs guiltily. "Yeah. I'm alright."_

_Chibs was beginning to get real tired of the awkward silences. _

"_We should-" Juice coughed in the middle of the sentence and Chibs abruptly straightened at the wet sound of it, an icy shiver running down his spine. "Shit," Juice said on a gasp. Chibs was close enough that he could hear him swallow. He tried to move closer. _

"_Guess it's more than just a busted leg."_

_Chibs could practically feel the bitch-face. In some fucked up way, it made him have to force down a smile. _

"_Shut up."_

"_You gonna die on me?"_

"_Jesus, no."_

_Chibs scooted closer. "You sure about that? I'm no doctor, but that sounded like a punctured lung to me."_

"_Well, it's a good thing you're no doctor then," Juice snapped right next to Chibs' ear. He felt a frission of relief that at least Juice was still there enough to snap at him. _

"_How about we not do this and focus more on how we're here, where 'here' is, and how we're gonna get out?" Chibs suggested, nudging Juice with his bound feet. Juice jumped in response, and Chibs felt the worry come back when he realized that Juice hadn't even noticed Chibs next to him. _

"_That'd be nice. Except neither of us know how we got here or where we are. Much less how to get out."_

"_Well aren't you just an optimistic Olivia."_

"_Realistic. Try again."_

"_You had a deprived childhood, didn't ya, laddie?"_

"_Really? We're gonna do this now?"_

"_Do what?" Chibs burst out in frustration, clenching his bound hands into fists and digging his nails into his palms. _

"This_," Juice said again, sounding as if he were chewing out the word. "You, being a dickwad for no apparent reason besides the fact that, oh yeah, you're a dickwad."_

"_I was just tryin' to figure out something that could help this situation. You're the one getting his knickers in a bloody fucking twist."_

"_Not now, you Scottish prick," Chibs could hear the sneer and longed to punch it just so Juice wouldn't sound like that. "Since I fuckin' got here. I thought we were alright after our last fuckin' life-threatening incident, but you keep brushing me off and being an asswipe." _

_Chibs paused. He frowned and shifted uncomfortably, pushing away the rush of guilt and favoring the rise of anger over it. "Did little Juice get his feelings hurt because not everyone wants to be his friend?" Chibs taunted._

_Juice made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. "See! That's exactly what I fucking mean! Every time I bring it up, or try to talk to you, or _do _something you're fucking dickhead pants come out. I don't know what the fuck you're problem is, but it's not my-"_

_A rush of light, blinding Chibs for a moment as it filled the room, cut Juice off. A door opened and Chibs had to slam his eyes closed against the onslaught of brightness that caused this throbbing head to flare up in spiking pain. Faintly, he could hear Juice issue a small groan. _

_Chibs pried his eyes open slightly to peer at the shadow in the brightly lit doorway. _

"_Are you two ladies finished arguing? Because I feel like there's a few things we should discuss."_

_*.*.*_

"Think we should go after him?"

Tig looked up at Bobby to see him staring at the doors Chibs had left through. He shook his head, remembering the look on the other man's face. "Nah," he said. He returned to looking at his boots. "Let him be."

He heard Bobby let out a deep sigh as he took the seat next to him. They were both quiet for a few long minutes, the only noise being the ringing at the receptionists' desk and the muted volume of the TV hanging in the corner echoing through the empty waiting room.

Bobby finally spoke, his voice rough and kind of choked. "What the hell happened?"

Tig didn't say a thing, wondering the exact same thing himself. He'd been asking himself questions of the same variation for the past hour. What happened? Why'd he do it? Why didn't they notice? What was going on? Did Chibs notice? What happened? Why the fuck would Chibs do it?

"You think it was Miles?" Bobby inquired, sounding desperate for some sort of answer. "The Russians? The cartel?"

"I dunno, man." Tig let out a sigh that seemed to rattle in his bones.

"I have no fucking clue, anymore."

_*.*.*_

Tig's jaw cracked from the yawn he let loose. He could feel his eyes drooping despite the shit ton of crap coffee he'd ingested and rolled his shoulders in wide circles. He opened his eyes as wide as possible, blinking hard.

It didn't help.

He slumped back in the uncomfortable hospital chair with a groan that had Bobby glancing at him from over his newspaper. Tig ignored him in favor of staring at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling rather than the prone figure on the hospital bed in front of him.

His gaze moved towards Juice anyway. He swallowed against a rush of bile when he caught sight of the bruises around the kid's throat and remembered how he looked lying on the ground outside.

Fuck. He couldn't do this.

He stood up, the chair pushing back against the linoleum and making a noise that sounded too loud for the small hospital room. Tig winced and glanced at Juice again-not that it would wake him up or anything.

"Goin' somewhere?" Bobby asked quietly, peering over his reading glasses.

"Yeah," Tig said with a small nod, jerking his head to the side self-consciously and putting his hands on his hips. " Just ah, gonna take a walk. Wake myself up. You know."

Bobby stared at him for a moment longer and Tig did his best to hold his gaze. "Yeah," the other man said at last, quietly. Knowingly. "I get ya'. Go on, then. Maybe while you're up you can see if you can find Chibs. I think he's been in his own head long enough."

"You think being in here will be any better?" Tig asked before he could stop himself and called upon every ounce of willpower he had not to glance at the hospital bed.

"I think that he shouldn't be alone right now." Bobby lifted the paper back up over his face. Vaguely, Tig wondered when he even picked it up. "And neither should you. So find him quickly."

Tig's shoulders hunched and he nodded once, already heading for the door. "Yes, Mom." He muttered.

The paper rustled as Bobby turned a page. "I heard that."

"You were meant to." Tig closed the door quietly on Bobby's tired chuckle. For a moment he just leaned against the closed door, eyes sliding shut and resting his forehead against the wood.

Jesus fuck, he was so damn tired.

He had to find Chibs.

Resolutely, he pushed himself off the door, groaning with the twinge his muscles gave.

"I am getting too old for this shit."

*.*.*

Chibs didn't know how long he sat on the dirty bathroom floor. He didn't really care. Finally, though, he became conscious of the cold floor seeping through his jeans and numbing his arse. He got up more out of a distant discomfort than any actual decision.

He washed his face without looking in the mirror. He didn't want to see his own face at the moment.

Chibs pressed his fingers against his eyes, against another rush of angry tears. He huffed a breath through his nose and lowered his arms when he felt the wave pass. Robotically, he opened the door and moved into the hallway.

He stood there for a moment, lost, and unsure of what he should do.

He hadn't felt lost for a long time. He couldn't honestly say that he was happy with the feeling that felt like it was suffocating him.

"Chibs," he turned to see Tig coming down the hallway. His hair stood on end in curls and circles lined his eyes. His face was pale and drawn, his voice weary. Still, the grip of the hand on Chibs' shoulder was firm and it steadied him for a moment.

He didn't feel so lost at that moment, with his brother.

"Hey man, where ya been?" Tig asked, eyeing him worriedly.

Chibs shrugged, waving vaguely. "Around." He left it at that. No need to tell him that he'd spent the last however-long sitting on a dirty hospital bathroom floor and crying his bloody eyes out.

Some thing's were best left between a man and the bleached bathroom floors of a hospital.

"Well, you're gonna come back with me to Juice's room." Chibs' shoulder jerked and Tig tightened his grip, pulling Chibs back the way he came. "Forget it man. You run, and I get Tara to stick a tranq in your ass."

Chibs swallowed a rush of panic. He didn't want to go back to Juice's room. He didn't want to see him lying there, looking for all intents and purposes, dead. He couldn't.

Shit, he really, really couldn't right now.

He opened his mouth to argue, but all that came out was a defeated sound he would forever deny making. Tig glanced at him and stopped when he saw something on Chibs' face.

Tig ran a hand down his face tiredly, a curse muffled by it. "Shit," he said quietly, letting his arm fall limply to his side and glancing at Chibs again. "Shit," he repeated. "Fine. We won't go back. I don't really want to myself. But you're goin' home then, you're takin' something, and you're getting some goddamn sleep."

Before Chibs could think to argue or express his gratitude-it was a pretty even toss up of which he'd go with. He wasn't entirely sure which he would've chosen-Tig flipped his phone from his pocket and dialed what Chibs saw was Bobby's number.

Tig kept his hand tight on Chibs' shoulder as the phone dialed in his ear. It was loud enough and quiet enough in the hallway that Chibs could hear when Bobby picked up, his voice echoing from the phone.

"_Yeah?"_

"I found him. I'm taking him home."

There was a momentary pause. _"You think that's such a good idea?_"

Chibs couldn't say he blamed Bobby for asking that. _He _still didn't know if it was a good idea.

"Better than the alternative," Tig said dryly.

Another pause. Grudgingly, _"Yeah, I guess you're right. Fine. Take him home. Both of you get some sleep. I mean it, Tigger,_" Bobby said over Tig's faint noise of protest. _"You're gonna be staying with him anyway, I know you. You both might as well get some sleep."_

"What about you?"

Bobby let out a laugh. It had no humor in it and sounded bone-weary. _"Yeah, no way in hell am I getting' any sleep tonight. I'm gonna stay here with Juice. I'll call you when I wanna leave."_

"Alright. Thanks, Bobby." Tig hung up the phone and slung his arm around Chibs' shoulder. "C'mon, man. Let's go hit Tara up for some knock-out meds so we don't have to think for the next eight solid."

Chibs had to admit it was the best idea he'd heard in a while.

**So…. Surprise? **

**Yeah. Long time, eh? Don't hate me. Even though it's been forever since I've updated. Almost a year, actually. **

…**.**

**Right then. **

**Filler chapter! The next one has some of the good stuff-mostly more back-story, because I'm a sucker for head canons. **

**And maybe tomorrow I'll update The Ties That Bind. Who knows?**

**Anyway, thank you all to those who still read my poor, abandoned fics. Thank you even more to those who actually think their worthy enough to review. It's bewildering but very much appreciated. It's 'cause of you guys that I just can't leave these things alone. **

**Until next time!**


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